


Family Photo

by Shan282



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Big Brother Dean, Blood and Gore, Castiel tries to be a good dad, Charlie is bad ass, Crowley is a good dad, Dean and Sam can't remember their other sibling, Dean has a twin sister, Depression, Drinking, F/F, F/M, It's all John's fault, M/M, Mentions of Demon Dean, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Winchester Twins, but he has good intentions, gdi john, john winchester is a shitty dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 19:08:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6091102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shan282/pseuds/Shan282
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are no pictures from when they were young and on the road with John. All of Dean's memories seem to have gaps in them. He never really thought much of it until he found a photograph in one of John's many storage units. It showed a young John and Mary holding newborn Sam, and two children, himself and a girl, both holding hands and smiling, Dean's free hand clutching John's. He'd seen this picture before, but his other arm was always cut off, right where the hands were joined.</p><p>In other words, Dean finds an old family photo showing him and his twin sister only he can't remember her because John sold her soul to erase Sam and Dean's memories so they won't have to lose another person they love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Photo

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first actual work posted on this site, I used to write anime fan fiction on fanfiction.net but I have since grown up. Enjoy~

Sarah leaned forward and looked up at the dark asylum through the Impala’s dusty windows. She glanced over at Dean who sat silently in the driver's seat as he hesitantly turned off the engine.

“Are we actually doing this?” She asked, worrying her bottom lip. “Dad’s gonna kill us if those things in their don't kill us first. No, he’ll drag our asses out of wherever the fuck we end up and kill us again.” She let out a nervous laugh, twisting the angel around her neck. It had been a gift from her mother before her untimely death, it was the last part of her mother that she had.

“It’s fine. I got Sammy to cover for us.” Dean stated matter-of-factly, his voice not raising above a loud whisper. He grabbed the shotgun he’d brought along from the backseat and got out of the car, Sarah following close behind. She opened the trunk of the car, choosing to grab a sawed-off shotgun loaded with salt and followed Dean through the asylum doors.

It was freezing cold inside and she wasn't sure if it was due to the lack of central heating or to the hundreds of vengeful spirits. She didn't dare utter a word in fear that she would alert them to her presence. Her pace was fast as she followed close behind her brother, watching him jump at every sound. They finally made it top the canteen area, stopping to look around. They were about to move on when they found their paths blocked by terrifying apparitions.

Sarah was the first to fire a shot, her gun already loaded, she pulled the trigger. A spray of salt blew away two spirits stealing towards them, but they were soon back. Not before long, it was like an all out war in the room. The near constant spray of salt blurred her vision silk she could no longer see Dean, but she could still hear the sound of his sorghum going off every few seconds as he reloaded. It was hard to hear anything amongst the banks of shotguns going off. She took a few steps back towards the exit.

There was suddenly a loud scream and she turned back just in time to see Sam holding up a nine millimeter pistol that had seemingly jammed. One of the spirits was barreling towards him, an ear piercing scream rippling from its vocal chords. Without thinking, she dove in front of him, the spirit targeting her instead of Sam. There was a sudden coldness that swept through her body, seeping deep down into her bones. She felt like her her lungs were being pulled out through her throat, the spirit’s hollow eyes looking down at her with so much anger. She was pretty sure she could hear Sam screaming her name, but he sounded so far away. And then the screaming got louder, much much louder, she couldn’t tell where it was coming from though, her mind too consumed with fear to realize she was the one.

“Dean!” She heard Sam’s muffled yelling, her heart felt like it was being torn apart, like there was a hand in her chest cutting and carving away at it until she was choking on her own blood. Through darkened vision, she saw Dean’s mortified face appear in front of her after the spirit was blown away.

There was an almost weightlessness as Sarah was carried out of the building. Dean lay her down on the ground outside, far enough away that the spirits couldn’t reach her. He was saying something, what it was she couldn’t hear over her voice, screeching away in pain. She jerked forward, coughing up copious amounts of blood that had been filling her lungs all over Dean. Her eyes widened in fear as she realized she was slowly in her own blood.

With a cold, shaking hand, she reached up and touched Dean’s face, accidentally smearing it with her blood. She cracked on a painful smile and spoke, her voice coming out as a gargled whisper. “Dad’s gonna kill me.” Sarah laughed before coughing again. She couldn't breath, edging her vision. Sam was crying, he grabbed her hand and she smile, a trail of blood dripping down her cheek. “Love you Sammy.” She managed before her head lolled back, her body convulsing in on itself, blood gurgling out of her mouth and spilling down her front. She took a final, gasping breath, to no avail, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and she started to thrash around. After a few seconds she grew still, her body limp and eyes glassy.

Dean let out a sob, clutching Sam close to his chest. He pulled his phone from his pocket, punching in the oh so familiar number of his dad. “What?” A gruff voice on the other end of the line asked.


End file.
